


Pieces of You

by Wonko



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Ficlet Collection, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 07:26:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14890167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonko/pseuds/Wonko
Summary: A collection of short tumblr prompts. Each one standalone.





	1. A flash of anger

Bernie slammed her hand down on the middle of steering wheel. The car horn blared loudly, but not loudly enough to cover the expletive that leapt from her lips.

Serena jerked awake from a light doze. “What?” she gasped, her heart racing at the rude awakening.

Bernie glanced at her, abashed. “Sorry,” she said. “Some twat in a Porsche who thought the speed limit wasn’t meant for the likes of him.” She shook her head. “And it’ll be us that has to put him back together if he wraps it round a lamppost.”

“Hmm,” Serena hummed. “No it won’t. Not for a full, glorious week.”

Bernie smiled as she considered the prospect of a whole week off work with Serena in the little self-catering cottage they’d booked in the Cotswolds. “Good point,” she said. “And we’re nearly there.”

“Good,” Serena purred, sliding her hand onto Bernie’s thigh. “Have I ever told you you’re beautiful when you’re angry…”


	2. When words aren’t enough

Serena stormed into the office and slammed the door, colour high in her cheeks, muttering under her breath.

“He’s back then,” Bernie said, scribbling her signature onto the last of the charts she’d promised she’d get through today. “Want me to have a word?”

Serena shook her head. “No, he’s my ex, I should deal with him.” She sighed. “I thought saying ‘there’s someone else’ the last time I saw him would have been enough.”

A small frown creased Bernie’s forehead. “If he’s bothering you, we should tell security not to let him in from now on.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Serena said, waving her hand in the air dismissively. “I just need to get through to him somehow that it’s not going to happen between us. I’ve said it in every way I can think of but it’s just not-“

Suddenly she broke off, her eyes lighting up with an idea. Before Bernie could ask what she was planning, Serena had scooped a pad of paper and a pencil from her desk and begun to stride back to the nurses’ station where the rather pathetic looking figure of Robbie waited hopefully.

Five minutes later Serena returned looking pleased and triumphant. “What did you do?” Bernie asked, but couldn’t help but smile at the glee on her partner’s face.

“Words weren’t enough,” Serena replied, shrugging. She held out the pad of paper for Bernie to inspect. “So I drew him a diagram.” She grinned. “He must be a visual learner…”


	3. A stolen kiss

“How did I get talked into this?” Serena grumbled for the tenth time that morning.

Bernie grinned. “Because you’re a loving auntie who couldn’t stand to see Jason’s social engagement group shut down for lack of funds?”

“Hmmph,” Serena replied grumpily. “Soft touch, that’s my trouble.”

Bernie looked up at the sign above Serena. _Kissing Booth._ It was a bit old-fashioned, but the group leaders had come up with the idea of a traditional village fete to raise money - playing on city people’s desires to experience quaint village life without the bother of actually living in a village.

“I expect you’ll make up the whole total singlehanded,” she said.

Serena smiled. “Charmer,” she murmured, before taking hold of Bernie’s lapels and pulling her forward for a kiss.

When it ended, Bernie pulled back with a little blush colouring her cheek. “I’d better get to my stall,” she said softly.

“Test your strength against the Big Macho Army Medic,” Serena teased. “Just don’t let the first pretty girl you see win.”

“Oh, I only let you win our little contests darling,” Bernie replied with a wink.

She was a few strides away from Serena’s booth when she heard Jason calling after her. “Auntie Bernie! You didn’t pay for that kiss. That’s stealing!”

She deliberately didn’t meet Serena’s eyes as she returned and slipped a five pound note into Serena’s cash box.

“That’s too much,” Jason objected. “It’s only one pound per kiss.” He looked to Serena. “You need to give her change.”

With a wicked grin, Serena came to her rescue. “Oh, that’s all right Jason,” she said. “I’ll give her the rest of what she’s paid for later tonight…”


	4. The colour green

Serena’s mother taught her to knit when she was a child. She used to be quite competent at it, once upon a time. When she finds out Jason’s girlfriend is pregnant, she looks up some YouTube tutorials to remind her of a few things, then practises some simple items to brush off the rust - some booties, a little hat, even a simple cardigan. She’s building up to tackling a shawl in an intricate pattern that she’s had for years, having seen it in a craft shop with Adrienne once and bought it on impulse, thinking one day she’d make it for her first grandchild.

She tries not to think about that when she’s working on it.

She thinks about pink but decides she doesn’t want to buy into societal expectations of gender. White gets dirty too quickly. Yellow looks too sickly. She scours the shelves of her local Hobbycraft for what feels like hours, fingering different yarns, imagining what they’d look like wrapped round her great-niece.

When she finally finds the right one, she spends every free hour she has knitting the shawl. With Bernie in Nairobi and Jason spending less and less time at hers, she ends up having quite a few spare hours. Still, with the complexity of the garment and her own rusty skills, she only just manages to finish it before Greta goes into labour.

Bernie comes home in time for the birth. The visit isn’t planned to coincide with the arrival of baby Haynes, but that’s how it works out. Serena brings the shawl to the maternity ward and watches as Bernie wraps it round the as yet nameless baby. The shawl is a deep forest green, soft and intricately made. The baby looks tiny nestled inside it, infinitely vulnerable and precious. Bernie fingers the edge of the shawl as she holds her, chewing her lip between her teeth.

“I get it,” she says softly, gazing into the child’s face. “Jason, Greta, this little one…they’re your family. Here is where you need to be.”

Serena looks up at her sharply, her heart in her mouth. But Bernie just continues looking at the baby. “So here’s where I should be too.”

For a moment Serena isn’t sure what she’s just heard. “Really?” she whispers when her brain catches up with her ears.

Bernie looks up at last. “Really,” she says.


	5. A fistfight

“You can’t just button-mash,” Jason said, pouting. “It’s not in the spirit of the competition.”

Bernie looked up from the joy-con cramped into her hand and frowned. “What?”

Jason nodded towards the TV screen. “It’s an intricate game,” he said. “A dance of back and forth, attack and retreat. There are moves to learn. It’s difficult and serious. There are people who play professionally!”

Bernie’s frown deepened. “I’m sorry, Jason. I’ll try to do better?”

Two minutes later, Jason threw his joy-con to the floor after Bernie had somehow wiped out his fighter for the tenth time that afternoon by making Ryu do a Shinku Hadoken.

“I’m not playing with you anymore,” he grumbled. “You just don’t do it properly.”


	6. Greatest fear

The first time it happens, Bernie laughs. It seems so silly, such a tiny little thing. Six legs, a fuzzy wuzzy body, pleasant yellow and black colouring. But she stops laughing when she sees the absolute naked terror on Serena’s face that lasts until Bernie has captured the bee under a glass and released it into the garden.

“I was walking to school with a friend and her mother,” Serena explains later, with Shiraz. “My friend was banging the hedges with a stick when suddenly this explosion of buzzing descended on us. She must have hit a hive.” Serena shudders at the memory. “All I remember is the sound. That’s what sets me off. A buzzing sound at just the right pitch and bang - I’m five years old and terrified.” She blushes, looking down. “Silly, I know.”

Bernie takes her hand. “It’s not,” she says gently, her face softening. “I want to know everything about you.” She smiles. “And I promise I’ll keep a glass and a piece of card handy at all times from now on.”


End file.
